


Like I Know My Own Mind

by Anjali_Organna



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Brownies, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjali_Organna/pseuds/Anjali_Organna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s kind of nice, being alone with Wally. He’s less prickly when her—their—dad isn’t around, or Barry, for that matter. He doesn’t act like he has so much to prove when it’s just her.</p><p>[Post 2x10; in which Iris and Wally watch football, discuss Weighty Things, and debate the finer merits of brownie baking]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like I Know My Own Mind

**Author's Note:**

> IDK. I got this idea at two in the morning and wrote it really quickly and it was supposed to be stupid and lighthearted and fluffy but of course I had to take a detour to Downer Town in the middle, so, sorry about that. Unbeta'd.

“So, what’s up with this Flash guy, anyways?” Wally asks, out of the blue. Iris slides a glance in his direction.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he says with exaggerated patience, “what’s his deal?”

It’s Sunday. Joe had persuaded Wally to come over with the promise of pizza and football. Not twenty minutes into the game, Joe’d gotten called into the station, but he’d promised to be back before the fourth quarter. Iris isn’t holding her breath, though. She knows how these things go. And anyways, it’s kind of nice, being alone with Wally. He’s less prickly when her— _their_ —dad isn’t around, or Barry, for that matter. He doesn’t act like he has so much to prove when it’s just her.

Speaking of Barry:

“Oh,” Iris says airily. “He’s just our friendly neighborhood superhero.” This earns her an unimpressed look from Wally.

“So he lives in the neighborhood, then?”

Dammit. “I didn’t say that…”

“You did, actually.”

“Yes, but…” Here’s the thing: she doesn’t want to lie to Wally. There’s been more than enough lies in the West household lately. She turns on the couch to face Wally fully. “Look. There’s a lot I can’t tell you about the Flash. Not without talking to him first.”

“It’s cool,” Wally says. “Secret identities and all that.”

“Yeah,” Iris says, relieved. “It’s not that I don’t trust you...”

“You shouldn’t trust me,” Wally says. “You just met me.” _I don’t trust you_ goes unspoken but Iris hears it all the same. She sighs and takes a breath. “I can’t tell you the Flash’s identity because it’s not my secret to tell. I _can_ tell you that he’s a good guy. I think you’d like him.”

“Doubt it,” Wally mutters. “Dude’s a show-off.”

Iris can’t stop herself from laughing a little, but she can’t tell Wally that she’s thinking about the time Barry built a model volcano in the basement and was so eager to demonstrate to her and Joe that in his haste he got some of his calculations wrong for the fake lava and accidentally blew it up.

It’s not showing off the way Wally means, but it amuses her all the same.

There’s a brief pause as they watch Cam Newton sneak over the goal line for another touchdown. Wally laughs at the quarterback’s victory dance. “Man, it’s nice watching sports in HD again.”

“You don’t have one?” Iris asks, a little surprised. “Sold it,” he says shortly, and she immediately feels like the world’s biggest jerk, remembering what her father had said about Wally racing cars to pay for Francine’s treatments.

“Listen,” she begins, and he holds up a hand. “Don’t say it.”

“I wasn’t—”

“We don’t need your pity,” Wally says, a hint of anger threading through his voice. “Or your charity.”

“I wasn’t going to offer either,” Iris says. “Besides, it’s not charity if it’s family. We can help with some of the bills. You shouldn’t have to take this on all alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’ve got my mom.”

Iris knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help herself: “You know, before she was your mom, she was mine.”

“Then why haven’t you gone to see her?” Wally snaps. “She’s going through hell right now. She could use the support. _I_ don’t want it, but she does.”

“Because she _left_ me,” Iris snaps back. “Say what you want about Joe, but if he’d known you existed, he’d have moved heaven and earth to track you down. Francine has never once reached out to me, not until she needed something from me. From us. But _I_ needed _her_. Do you have any idea how many times I wanted my mother? How many times I wished she was here? And all this time, she was just across the damn river…” And just like that, Iris is crying. Dammit.

“Oh,” Wally says, and the panic in his voice is enough to make her laugh mid-sob. “Oh, hey. I’m sorry. It’s okay, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please stop crying. Oh, my god.”

She scrubs away tears with her palms, hugely embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to lose it like that, and she says so. “I just…the last year has been pretty overwhelming. I guess I haven’t really wrapped my mind around the idea of her being here, really, and then the idea of losing her all over again.” She hesitates, thinking. “I guess I thought it would be easier if she just…stayed out of my life. Then it wouldn’t hurt so much, this time around.”

Wally’s quiet for a long moment, eyes downcast. When he finally speaks, his voice is tentative. “Joe told me…about Eddie? I’m sorry. I should have remembered that you know what it’s like. To lose someone.”

“Yeah,” Iris says, willing herself to not start crying again. “Like I said, it hasn’t been the easiest.” She clears her throat, takes a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. “Anyways. Enough about me. I was thinking…there’s gotta be some sort of program or benefit or something we could find that would help with some of the medical bills.”

Wally shakes his head. “There’s so much bullshit and paperwork and stuff. I looked a little bit but that shit was insane. And mom is always too tired to really get into it.”

Iris flashes a grin. “Well, you’re in luck because picking through bullshit happens to be a specialty of mine.”

Wally gives her a look. “That sounds weirder than you probably meant.” She swats him on the arm. “I _mean_ that I’m really good at research. So. Would you consider it pity or charity if I were to look into some options for you?”

One corner of his mouth kicks up in something close to a smile. “I—thank you. That would be—nice. I should probably offer to help you, right?” His expression makes clear how unappealing he finds the idea. Iris laughs.

“No, it’s okay, I think I can muddle through on my own, although I’ll probably have questions about what treatment Francine’s already had, stuff like that, so—why are you making that face?”

“Do you smell something burning?” he asks, nose wrinkled. Iris sniffs, then shrieks. She bolts off the couch and runs into the kitchen.

Unfortunately, smoke is curling out of the oven. “Quick—open the window!” She doesn’t wait to see if Wally obeys, grabbing an oven mitt and opening the oven door. “Oh, _no_ ,” she moans, waving smoke away. Her beautiful brownies—burned. She can’t believe she didn’t remember to set a timer.

Wally peers into the oven, taking the mitt from her and pulling out the tray. “Awesome,” he says. “They’re perfect. Just a little burned.”

Iris stares at him in dismay. “What?”

He shrugs. “I prefer them burned.”

She stares some more. “We’re not related. There’s been a mistake.”

He turns away and rummages in drawers before finding a fork and sticking the tines into the brownies. “I’ll eat them, if you don’t want to.”

“They're _burned_.” She eyes Wally suspiciously. “I bet you burn your marshmallows, too.”

He raises a brow. “Obviously.”

She shakes her head sadly. “You poor child. Clearly you’ve just been waiting for your big sister to lead you back to the light.”

Wally’s busy cutting up the pan. He wedges a slice out and takes a big, showy bite in front of her, before spitting the piece out in the sink. “Ow! Ow! Hot!”

“See,” Iris says repressively. “See what happens when you don’t listen to me? I know everything. I am all-knowing.”

“Would someone all-knowing have burned their brownies?” he asks, opening the fridge and taking out the milk. “Glasses?”

Iris points to the correct cabinet. “Shut up. I was distracted. Besides, maybe I secretly knew that you liked them burned. Maybe I did this for you on purpose? I’m such a good sister.”

Wally laughs at her over the rim of his glass, and Iris feels a warm glow in the center of her chest. She can do this. _They_ can do this. She knows it won’t be easy, but then again, nothing worthwhile ever is.

Joe comes into the house, calling out to them. “In here!” Iris calls back, surprised.

“Turns out they didn’t need me after all,” he says as he walks into the kitchen. Then he wrinkles his nose. “Baby, what happened to those brownies?”

“She burned them,” Wally says before Iris can answer. Joe’s brows go up.

“Don’t say it,” Iris warns him.

“You feeling okay?” Joe says, ignoring her. “Did you fall down and hit your head? Should I be worried?”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” she says as Wally laughs again. “Besides, Wally likes them burned.”

Joe leans over the pan consideringly, before picking up a piece and popping it into his mouth. “Hmmm. Not bad, actually.”

Wally holds out his fist for a pound as Iris wheels out of the kitchen, declaring, “You’re all traitors. This house is full of traitors.”

Their laughter follows her out of the room and she smiles to herself, content for the moment.


End file.
